


A Series of Short Drabbles

by nugatory



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 07:37:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19970398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nugatory/pseuds/nugatory
Summary: Short drabbles based off of prompts.





	1. Swiss Cheese

"There's an exit wound. The bullet went through you."

“I’m having deja vu,” Eric grit his teeth as Aaron examined his side. An inch to the left and the damn thing would have missed him completely. Another couple of inches to the right, and he’d have been shot in the exact same place as before. Just his luck. 

“At least this one doesn’t look as bad as before,” Aaron offered, putting pressure on the entry wound as Daryl ripped a large strip of fabric from the downed skin-wearer. 

“Sure as hell feels about the same.” Eric leaned forward as Daryl looped the fabric around him, pulling it tight enough that it would help keep pressure on the wound long enough for them to make it back to Alexandria. “I’m starting to feel like swiss cheese...or target practice for everyone who hates us.”

“It’s your hair,” Aaron quipped with a teasing smirk as he and Daryl both helped Eric to his feet. “It’s like a beacon or a bullseye or something.”

Eric gave an incredulous look. “If that’s the case, shouldn’t they just be aiming at my head?”

“Let’s just be glad they didn’t,” Aaron replied, helping Daryl get Eric back to the horses.


	2. Stay For Dessert

"Thanks for the dinner. Nice to meet two people here that don't make this place feel like the twilight zone."

“Stay for dessert,” Eric couldn’t help but quip as he pulled himself up on his crutches. “Aaron’s attempts at baking an apple pie could change your mind.”

He could have sworn he saw Daryl almost smirk in response, even though Aaron gave him ‘the look.’ The three moved towards the front door, Aaron and Daryl stepping out on the front porch while Eric leaned on his crutches in the open doorway.

“It was nice to have you over,” the ginger said with a sincere smile. “And...thank you. For taking over for me. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I thought Aaron was going out there with someone I couldn’t trust. You never know who or what you’ll come across out there, so it’s good to know he’ll be with someone who’s got his back.”

Aaron held his eyes for a moment before he looked over at Daryl, “That goes both ways, you know.”

Daryl gave a nod and was just about to turn to leave before Eric spoke up again. “If you do happen to find that pasta maker, you’ll be my new hero.” Aaron, again, gave Eric a look and the redhead shrugged. “What? Introduce him to Mrs. Neudermeyer; he’ll see what I mean.”

“Goodnight, Daryl,” Aaron shook his head with a soft laugh at his partner.


	3. Farmboy

_"Gotta head out on a run. Think you might wanna come with me?"_

Eric had been sitting on the front steps of the house, sipping coffee when he’d seen Daryl approaching. He’d given a ‘good morning’ nod, still not quite awake enough to attempt civilized conversation just before the question had been asked, and he automatically looked behind himself thinking that Aaron must have slipped out of the house unheard. When he didn’t see his partner, he furrowed his brow and looked back at Daryl.

“Who? Me?”

“Nah, the mouse in your pocket,” Daryl snorted softly. “Yeah, you. Aaron said you grew up on a farm or somethin’ and Maggie’s askin’ for some stuff that I ain’t got a clue what it is. Figured you’d be the best person to ask.”

‘Or something’ was probably the more accurate description of where Eric had grown up, but he figured that was beside the point. He was familiar with an array of equipment and tools, so Daryl picking him for the run did make sense. He felt a little giddy at being asked; it had been a while since he’d done much of anything beyond the walls, and he was starting to go stir crazy just sitting around twiddling his thumbs. “Did she give you a list of what she’s looking for?”

Daryl pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of his vest and handed it over. Eric unfolded it and read over the items, taking another sip of coffee to wake himself up a little more. “I think I know where we can find a lot of this stuff. Aaron and I have traveled so much, I feel like I could write an almanac on where to find certain things.” 

“Good. Headin’ out in an hour. I’ll meet you at the gate.”


	4. We Done Yet?

Eric had spent enough time around Daryl to know when something was bothering the man. If the small, almost imperceptive tells like the pinch between his brows, or the way his lips were pulled into a thin line weren’t enough, the fact that the man hadn’t said more than a handful of words at dinner spoke volumes. Daryl had never been particularly prolific, but tonight he had been exceptionally quiet.

Although Eric didn’t know exactly what was wrong, he was willing to bet it had something to do with Carol. Her abrupt, midnight departure hadn’t gone over very well with most who knew her, but Daryl seemed the most affected by it. He looked sullen, withdrawn...hurt. It tugged at Eric’s heartstrings to watch Aaron try and cheer the man up with corny jokes and tales of mishaps from his and Eric’s adventures only to be met with a grunt in response.

Towards the end of the meal, Aaron seemed almost as downtrodden as Daryl, obviously glum by his failed attempt to alter Daryl’s mood. Eric set his fork down with a little more force than necessary, the metal clanging against the porcelain plate. “Okay, I can’t take it anymore,” he turned towards Daryl in his seat, gripping the man’s upper arm. Anticipating resistance, Eric quickly tugged the man towards him, drawing him close and wrapping both arms around him. He said nothing more; simply holding Daryl tightly in a warm hug, and refusing to let go until the other man accepted the embrace. 

After several long, tense moments of Daryl trying to extract himself, the tracker finally heaved a sigh of resignation and allowed himself to be hugged. Eric smiled triumphantly. “There. Isn’t that better?”

With his face against Eric’s shoulder, Daryl groused, “We done yet?”

Aaron snorted a soft laugh across the table as Eric released the man with a dramatic sigh. “Alright, alright. But stop moping.”

“I ain’t--”

Eric arched an eyebrow at him, cutting Daryl off. 

Daryl moodily poked at his food with his fork. “Fine…but I ain’t moping.”


	5. Good Morning

Laughter stirred Eric from sleep, and he cracked an eye open to see the bedroom bathed in the gentle golden rays of the early morning sun. The laughter, he realized, was coming from the street below. Children already up and playing in the fresh snow that had fallen overnight. He glanced at the clock and saw that it wasn’t even 7:30 yet. 

Reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed, the ginger rolled over and moved closer to his partner. Aaron was on his back, mouth slightly open, still dead to the world around him. Eric couldn’t help but smile, propping his head up on his hand as he watched the man sleep, the occasional snore mixing in with his normal breathing. 

Though he hated to wake him, Eric knew that Aaron hated sleeping too late into the morning. With the softest of touch, Eric brushed his fingertips over Aaron’s bare shoulder, making a trail across his collarbone, then up the side of his neck. He pressed a soft kiss to Aaron’s shoulder before gently tilting Aaron’s head in his direction, caressing his face tenderly as he sang in a quiet voice.

“Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me. Starlight and dewdrops, are awaiting thee…”

Aaron inhaled deeply, signalling that consciousness was beginning to take over, and Eric smiled down at him as he slowly opened his eyes. “Folgers had it all wrong. The best part of waking up is having you next to me.”


	6. Hold Me, Please.

“What can I do?” the words were spoken softly, Eric’s voice trembling as he fought back tears, watching Aaron futilely wiping away his own. His mind was reeling with everything his partner had just told him, and though he was devastated to hear about Glenn and Abraham, Eric could only selfishly think ‘Thank god it wasn’t Aaron.’

“I don’t know,” Aaron answered brokenly, looking over at his partner with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks. His hand fell to Eric’s, resting on his knee, and squeezed it as if it were the only thing tethering him there. “Hold me…please?”

As he spoke, he was already gently pulling Eric closer by the hand. Eric could tell by the way the man was shifting exactly what he wanted, and so he carefully moved to sit on Aaron’s lap. Folding the man in his arms, he brought Aaron’s head against his chest, stroking his hair before laying a soft kiss upon his crown and resting his cheek atop the man’s head. His arms held Aaron around the shoulders, one hand soothingly rubbing a bicep.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, though that felt like a lie. How was anything Aaron experienced okay, or ever going to be okay? Two men had been killed in front of him. His own life had been threatened with a stupid game of eeny, meeny, miny, mo. Daryl had been taken. Maggie and Sasha were gone. Nothing was even remotely okay. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

That part felt less like a lie, and it seemed to be what Aaron needed to hear. He squeezed Eric tightly around the middle, rubbing his cheek against Eric’s shirt in a vain attempt to dry his tears, and took a shuddering breath. “I was terrified I was never going to see you again.”

Eric wanted to interject humor to help lift Aaron’s spirits, but it seemed wholly inappropriate given the situation, and so he simply pressed another kiss into the man’s hair and held him tighter, allowing the man to say whatever he needed to in order to process what had happened.

They remained locked in each other’s arms for hours after the tears had dried. Neither had spoken in some time, and neither had made any attempt to move. Eric was willing to bet, however, that he knew exactly where Aaron’s mind was. He was thinking about what was going to come next; about getting Daryl back; and making things right for Glenn, Abraham, Maggie, and the rest of them. 

It was in Aaron’s DNA to help others, even if it meant risking his own life. Part of Eric felt like this was Rick’s battle, not theirs, but he knew that Aaron felt differently. Eric couldn’t help but squeeze Aaron a little tighter as dread crept into his gut. He had a bad feeling about what was coming...


	7. Bedtime

The room was already dark by the time Eric made his way up to bed. He could hear the soft sounds of his partner sleeping; gentle exhalations that signaled Aaron was sprawled on his back with his mouth open. Eric smiled in adoration as he started to unbutton his shirt to get ready for bed. It had been a grueling week for Aaron, going on supply runs with Rick, and it was obvious that he was mentally and physically wiped out. 

Slipping out of the rest of his clothes, Eric quietly slid into bed, carefully moving Aaron’s flopped out arm so that he could press up against the man’s side. Leaning down, Eric pressed a soft kiss to Aaron’s bare shoulder, trying not to wake the man. He propped his head up with his hand, watching his partner as he slept soundly. He had always been such a handsome man, but in moments like this--face slack in slumber--he was positively beautiful.

With a feather-soft touch, Eric caressed Aaron’s face, stroking his brow, the bridge of his nose, and each cheek in a random pattern before trailing his fingers down the side of Aaron’s throat, across his shoulders, along his arms, and over his torso. Aaron shifted in his sleep, instinctively rolling his head closer to Eric, and the ginger leaned down to pepper his face with tender kisses.

Drawing the shape of a heart on Aaron’s chest with his finger, Eric traced their initials in the center, then slid his hand up to gently cup Aaron’s cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone. “I love you so much,” he whispered, barely audible before touching his lips to Aaron’s with a kiss as soft as the wings of a butterfly.


End file.
